


150 Angst Prompts

by draculaspetbee



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 150 Angst Prompts, 2x06 Referenced, Angst, Anti- 2x06, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maybe fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Some swearsies, alex is an unreliable narrator, so M rating for now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculaspetbee/pseuds/draculaspetbee
Summary: So, I've picked a prompt list of 150 Angst/Horror Prompts that I'm going to be attempting to write each day (when I miss a day I'm gonna combine them into one fic, because let's be real, I'm human, with a part time job, in a pandemic, while writing my thesis. I'm gonna miss some days) Mostly Malex, or Alex Manes based fics, because let’s be real, I love that boy.
Relationships: Forrest Long/Alex Manes, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, michael guerin/maria deluca (mentioned)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 71





	1. Prompt #143 "The creature is staring at me again"

Alex had known at a young age that there was poison in his blood. How could he not when he had a monster for a father? On good days he could push it down deep; he ignored the pulsing pain and cries for help he yearned to vocalize following interactions with Jesse Manes. On bad days he retreated to the shed, allowing his pain and anger to eke out of him slowly, the loud music drowning out his inner screams. The shed gave him a place to retreat to on those bad days, somewhere he could go to let out is agony without hurting anyone else.

At 17 even that small haven was taken from him violently. Looking back on it he should have known better than to let anyone into the horror show that was his life, let alone _Michael_. He’d invited the most important person in his life to look at the deep-set mess of destruction that was his family, and Michael had ended up scarred by it. He didn’t need the beating afterwards to tell him that this was his fault; he already knew that. He’d never forgive himself for letting Michael see what evil creatures lived below the surface of the skin of all Manes men.

So, he did what he’d always wanted to do, he ran. He ran right into the open arms of the Air Force. He thought, maybe if he went into the military, he’d learn how to control it, take the bull by the horns and tame it, and maybe he’d be safe enough to be around and he’d allow himself to see Michael again. And for a while, it worked. Basic training was enough to exhaust him at night. He worked hard and he worked well, and most nights he didn’t end up screaming to the ghosts of his past. Sure, those nights still happened, but they were fewer and less intense than before.

And then he woke up in the hospital in Germany, the small family he’d gathered during his service was dead, and he was alone again. People came by, gave their condolences, but he could see behind the mask of pity in their faces, everyone knew he was to blame.

_You weren’t good enough_ , the monster in his veins whispered to him while he was alone. _You weren’t strong enough for Michael, you weren’t smart enough for those men. Everyone around you gets hurt. When are you going to accept that you are the problem here? You’re the least common denominator. You always make it out, while the others, well, the others suffer._

When he made it back to Roswell, he managed to shove it down deep again. His fell onto old habits, everything went into neat little boxes in his mind. He let himself see Michael again, for the first time in years; still scarred, still angry, but still there. He knew he should have shoved himself away again before anyone got hurt, but as always, he was too late. What happened in Caulfield was his fault, he’d brought Michael in, he’d let him go off on his own, he couldn’t stop the explosion. He could feel himself losing his family again.

He went home, desperate to be alone again. He knew he needed some place to decompress, to try to make sense of everything he’d seen. After that he knew, he needed to tell Michael everything, to make him understand why he’d left, why he kept trying to leave. He needed to keep Michael safe, from the world, from his father, from _himself._ He paced his house as he tried to think of what to say, what words he could put together to make this right.

Something flashed in the edge of his vision. He looked up, made eye contact, and a cold flash of fear shot through his body. _The creature was staring at him again_.

No. It was just his reflection.


	2. Prompt #105: "I feel so sick"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finds out Alex is moving in with Forrest. It does not go as planned.

It had been months since he’d really spoken to Alex, since he’d left the Wild Pony in the middle of Alex’s song, tearing both their hearts out in the process.

So much had happened, Michael just wanted to start over, take some time for them both to recover and begin again.

But just because he hadn’t spoken to Alex didn’t mean he didn’t see him. Alex was everywhere, in the Crashdown when he went to pick up lunch, at the Pony during open mic nights, in the very fabric of Michael’s soul.

It was torture. Having him so close but feeling the galaxy’s worth of distance between the two of them. Watching Forrest fawn over him, wrapping him up in a hug after performances, doing the things that every atom in Michael’s being yearned to do; it was like having his heart carved out with a rusty knife day in and day out, and damn if he didn’t find himself coming back and begging for more. He was keeping his distance, giving them time to heal, but knowing that didn’t make it easier to watch it happen.

That whole philosophy imploded on him one Tuesday morning when Isobel pulled up to Sanders’, throwing dirt up behind her car with the speed. She sidled up to him, coffee and bag of doughnuts in hand.

“What’s this for?”

“What, can’t I just want to come visit? See how all this” she threw her arms in a wide gesture, nearly spilling his coffee in the process, “is doing?”

He grumbled as he took his cup from her, there was no use letting her slosh it all into the sand.

“What are you really here for Isobel?”

“Heard from Alex today at the Crashdown.” That was no surprise. She seemed to be the only one of them Alex talked to anymore. Max was too mopey and Michael, well Michael was doing what was best.

“Oh?” He aimed for nonchalant and missed by a mile.

“He was all giddy, smiling so hard I thought he’d burst.” The thought of Alex being that happy sent a pang through his chest. He was happy yes. But happy without him. “He’s moving in with Forrest.”

Ice filled his veins, overpowering the burn of the coffee he choked on at the news.

“What?” It was more of a croak than a question.

“He’s moving in with him Michael. Said it was the ‘next step’ in their relationship.” She folded her arms in front of her and leaned back on the car he’d been working on. Her body language screamed _go get your man._ And he was intending on doing just that.

* * *

He made it to Alex’s house, what should have been an hour’s drive, in half that time. Panic that was softly simmering since Isobel had dropped the news on him fully set in when he saw the moving truck parked in the drive.

Michael didn’t even turn off the car, he just threw it in park and jumped out. Alex’s front door was open, and he could hear faint voices from inside.

“Forrest? Yea, I think one of the mover’s is here!” Alex’s voice drifted out from the open doorway, and the sound of it made him skid to a halt outside. “Here, can you help us get the couch out to the-“ he cut himself off as he caught sight of Michael. Alex pinned him in place with a look and reached behind him to close the door.

“What do you want Guerin?” In front of Michael’s eyes Alex’s whole demeanor changed. Gone was the happy, loose, grinning man from a second ago, now stood a stiff upright soldier in front of him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t move in with him Alex. Please.” Something shifted behind Alex’s eyes, changing his expression to something unreadable. He looked up to the sky and then let out a deep, long breath.

“Guerin, I don’t think you should be here. I’m getting my things together right now, and besides, I’m just moving into the country, it’s not like I’m leaving the U.S.” The word “again” hung between them, but neither man dared speak it.

“I just- I always thought that it’d be _us_ doing this. That we’d figure our shit out and be happy together. Please don’t do this Alex, I love-“

“Stop. I can’t. I can’t hear that from you right now.” Alex wasn’t even looking at him anymore, instead gazing at the sky just over his shoulder.

“Can’t hear what? That I’m in love with you? Why Alex?” He reached up to cup his face and felt his heart shatter as Alex stepped away from his touch.

“Michael. I can’t. It’s just, it’s too much.” He shook his head as he spoke, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle, as if trying to protect himself from Michael. “I’m happy now, just let me be happy.”

“But you could be happier with _me_.” Alex took another step back at that, trying to put more distance between them. Michael watched with a sinking feeling as Alex tensed again, as if preparing himself for something big.

“I talked to Maria the other day.” Michael’s sharp intake didn’t stop Alex from pushing forward. “She wanted to talk. About me. About you. She told me you two broke it off a few months back. That even though you said you loved her; you couldn’t be with her.” Alex looked up with shining eyes at where he was, frozen by the words. “That’s when I realized. That you’ve never really, ever said that to me. Did you know that? Today was the first time you’ve ever told me you love me. And right now, Michael? Right now, I don’t care. Because Forrest, he tells me all the time. And when I look at him I believe him. When I look at him I don’t have to think back to that night, and wonder how it went so wrong. The night when you and her- you took advantage of me. _I feel so sick when I think about it Michael._ I don’t know if we can move on from that. So, I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t.”

His voice wobbled near the end, but his stance was strong; and he didn’t look back at Michael as he stepped back into his home and out of Michael’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what this is lol! Sometimes I wonder if all of this is just the typing of a mad man. But I had fun writing it! As always, comment if you enjoyed!


	3. Prompt #147: "It's all my fault"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A familiar scene from a different perspective.

The roar that followed the flash was like something he’d never seen before. Sure, he’d dealt with death and destruction, just usually in the 3rd person kind of way that doctors see it.

The blast rattled the Jeep the three of them crouched behind, sand blasting past them in a wave of heat and fire. Honestly, he’d be surprised if the flames hadn’t instantaneously created glass in their wake. A cry sounded from his left side as Alex hit the ground hard. Michael had one arm wrapped around him, protective and secure. The sound of the Jeep tires hitting the ground took Kyle’s mind off the other two, rocking violently in the aftermath of the explosion. Ringing filled his ears as the aftereffects began to set in. He shot a look over at Alex again to see his friend curled up as small as he could make himself, hands covering his ears to keep out the noise. Michael reached forward and nudged his shoulder a bit, pulling Alex out of whatever had taken over his mind. They met eyes and as a unit looked over at Kyle. Alex nodded and they stood to look at the rubble that had been Caulfield Prison.

* * *

Kyle hadn’t really gotten to see much of the place, he’d been caught off guard by Michael’s aggression and sudden jealousy complex. Alex’s idea to bring Michael was not something Kyle could say he had wholeheartedly supported. He wasn’t a medical professional, and he damn well wasn’t a trained soldier, sure, he might have superpowers, but not everyone could be perfect. But Alex had a point, all three had family involved in Caufield somehow, it wasn’t fair to keep Michael out of the loop.

He also hadn’t been expecting Michael to hold onto a high school grudge for so long. Hell, the last real interaction he’d had with the man was that night right after graduation when Michael had stolen the hubcaps off of his new car. Really, he suspected the anger might stemmed from his treatment of Alex back in high school, but they had made amends, if Alex could forgive him why couldn’t Michael? So, he’d agreed. Michael would come.

The man himself, well, now he was a mess. Kyle’s brain kicked into overdrive, assessing the damages he could see from the outside. Alex had a twisted ankle, probably from being shoved to the ground. Michael had scratches and bruises on his forearms, hitting the sand at a high speed could not have been fun. He also looked exhausted; pale face, hands were shaking, he was on the verge of collapse. Definitely shock then. Michael had a dazed look on his face, he limply let Alex haul him up from the ground, and together they got him into the back of the Jeep.

The drive was silent. Before there had been bickering, not that he’d ever say it, but Alex and Michael argued like an old married couple when they forgot he was there. He’d been content to sit back and listen to them and the hum of the radio in the background. Now, well, now nobody really felt like speaking much.

After deeming them safe enough not to warrant a visit to the hospital, Kyle dropped off a still silent Michael. Alex had tried to help him out of the Jeep, only to be shrugged off. Michael didn’t even look at the man as he trudged back to his trailer. Kyle watched from the Jeep as the heart of the sweetest soul he knew shattered in front of him once again. He knew what dejection looked like on that face, he’d put it there often enough himself. Alex flinched at the sound of the door slamming shut, and he stood silent for a second before he clambered back into the vehicle with him.

Next stop was Alex’s house, where they sat in the driveway for a while before either of them spoke.

“Do you, is he going to be ok on his own?” Kyle’s mouth tasted like ash and sand, but he needed to know.

“No. But I’m going over there as soon as I can.”

“Alex, are you- are you going to be ok?”

“I always am right?” Alex tried to give him something, he could tell the muscles were trying to pull up into a smile, before he crumpled in on himself.

“Alex?” He leaned forward, unsure what to do. They weren’t close enough for him to reach out, and he knew Alex would shy away from anyone’s touch that wasn't Michael’s. Alex looked over, eyes red, face flushed as he tried to keep himself under control.

 _“It’s all my fault Kyle._ I shouldn’t have done this, we shouldn’t have been there. If I hadn’t- If we’d just left it alone. None of this would have happened. Michael lost his mother today, and it’s all my fault. He’s going to hate me Kyle, _I_ hate me.” His shoulders shook as he finally broke apart there in Kyle’s car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so many different ideas for this one, but I actually am kinda happy I went with this specific idea.


	4. Prompts #99 "If this is what you think is best" and Prompt #66 "Get out of my head"

“Michael no, where are you going?”

She had followed him outside, chasing him down as he fled the Wild Pony. Alex’s song had been, overwhelming to say the least. And then to hear those words while another man looked at him like that, it had sent a jolt of protective jealousy through him. But Alex wasn’t his to feel jealous about anymore. The thought of Alex reciprocating in any way to Forrest’s attention, giving that man a look previously only he had seen, and in public? He wouldn’t survive that.

What he said to Iz had been true, it wasn’t their time just yet, but that didn’t mean he was a masochist either, he didn’t want to live through the pain of watching Alex be with anyone other than himself.

“I can’t do it Iz! I can’t watch him fall in love with someone else! I can’t” He flinched as his voice cracked, making the last part more of a sob than anything else. Isobel gave him a look between understanding and disbelief.

“What do you think he did for months Michael? He was there for you through everything _and_ he watched you fall in love with her. You can’t leave him now, or else what was all this for? You need to get back in there and listen to the love song that man wrote for you.”

“You didn’t see the way that blue haired history nerd was looking at him Iz. I can’t, how is he even into that guy?” He shook his head, curls bouncing off of his forehead with the vigor of it.

“ _If this is what you think is best_ ” she pulled him into a tight hug, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you when this blows up in your face later. He’s not going to keep coming back, not after you stopped asking him to.”

“Now isn’t this just touching?” They broke apart at the voice from behind them. As one, Isobel and Michael took a step back. He looked like Max, he almost sounded like Max, but if he’d come from mid-central Texas instead of space. He looked them up and down from where he stood a few feet away, decked out in decades old cowboy studs. Aged denim, leather boots, and a black hat that even Michael had to be a bit jealous of.

“Who are you?” Isobel showed no fear, crossing her arms and even leaning back a little as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“Isobel, nice to see your powers are still in full force, but using it on your sibling? That’s bad form sis” he sent a nod her way, and with a gasp she stiffened next to Michael. She squinted, staring into the not-Max’s eyes. After an intense few minutes, she broke eye contact.

“How’re you doing that? And, you didn’t answer me, asshole.” The man took a step forward, trying to intimidate. Michael stepped up in front of his sister, he was already on edge as it was, and now he was just itching for a fight. Seeing Michael step up to the plate the man cocked his head to the side, trying to get a better read on the two.

“Well,” the drawl became more pronounced, “you two can call me Mr. Jones for now. How about we get better acquainted?”

A jolt went through Michael, and then a sudden wave of pain crashed through his mind. A rush of memories burst forward, bringing him to his knees. It felt like someone was going through a slideshow of his worst memories; Alex telling him he enlisted, Alex leaving for basic, getting the call that Alex had been fucking blown up and then realizing he couldn’t even go see him, Alex showing up and leaving again over and over. It was like Alex was there for everything painful, the knowledge gutting him, leaving him raw and exposed. In the background he could hear that man, _Mr. Jones_ , commenting on his pain, laughing even a little at him and Alex. He begged his brain not to show him the memory he knew in his gut was coming.

“Oh, what’s this now?” Mr. Jones said from behind him, and then they were there. The two of them stood in front of a young, teenage Michael and Alex. They looked so small there, huddled in the warmth of the tool shed Alex had lent him. They whispered to each other, wrapped up in the glow of innocence. He knew what happened after this, and he didn’t want to see it. Couldn’t live through it again.

“ _No. You don’t get to see this. Get out of my head.”_ It took a great effort, and with a feeling of wrenching his brain apart, they were out. He came back to his body falling backwards into the sand. He looked up at the sky with bleary eyes and heard a thud next to him. Isobel. She must have fallen prey to the same bizarre experience. Mr. Jones strolled up to the two of them, and squatted down next to Michael, looking down at him from above.

“Now that was interesting. And you left him in there all alone huh? Think that your, what’d you call him, “cosmic love” will be able to stop me? We’ll just have to find out, now won’t we?” and with that Mr. Jones patted him on the cheek, gave him a wink and sauntered off towards the bar, leaving Michael his tunneling vision. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop-a-doop, I had a Bad Time (TM) yesterday and couldn't finish the prompt! So, I put it into the one for today! :D As always, if you enjoyed, please comment or kudos!


	5. Prompt #148: "They hate me, don't they?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda fluff? Definitely NOT the angst from the previous chapters, even though this was an angst prompt lol.

It’d been months since Alex’s debut at the Wild Pony open mic night. Since then he’d played multiple times, the crowd always growing when word spread that he’d be performing. Usually it was the usual crowd, coworkers that wanted to support one of their own (the airmen usually huddled in the back together, but were often the loudest cheers), Gregory (he always sat up front, he would be there to have his little brother’s back from here on out), Kyle (he’d been furious that Alex hadn’t told him of his first performance, and demanded a monthly schedule so he could take advanced days off for his friend), and of course Forrest. That man would never miss his boyfriend playing love songs just for him in front of the town.

Alex was a nervous ball of energy the night of his next performance. Forrest thought that maybe by now he’d figure out how to work off the pre-show jitters, but no matter what they tried Alex was always a bit on edge right before he went on stage. Tonight, Forrest simply put his hand on Alex’s left knee and squeezed slightly, just to show he knew what Alex was going through. His boyfriend shot him a small smile, which quickly fell when he looked somewhere over Forrest’s shoulder and caught sight of someone.

“Shit.” Forrest whipped around to see who Alex was staring at, who was making all the blood leave his face like that. He’d been expecting some racist homophobic cowboy, lord knows the town had no shortage of men like that. So far the general public had kept to themselves, but you never could be too cautious. What he wasn’t expecting was to see Michael Guerin, Max and Isobel Evans, and Liz Ortecho traipsing in.

“Alex, you good? If you’re nervous you don’t have to play tonight.” He never wanted to push Alex too far out of his comfort zone. His boyfriend wasn’t made of glass, he knew he wouldn’t break, but Alex did have a habit of running when pushed past his limit; and tonight, Forrest wanted to be the one Alex felt he could run to.

Alex took a deep steadying breath and looked into his eyes. Alex had some of the most hypnotic eyes he’d ever seen. He could get lost in those eyes for hours. Alex nodded after a minute of internal debate, turning his back on the group that had walked in and offering Forrest that same tentative smile.

“Yea. I’m good. It’s going to be an interesting night though. Always is with that group.” Forrest couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, making the movement slow so Alex could pull away if he wanted. He didn’t, and Forrest touched the smooth skin of Alex’s cheek reverently. He caressed his boyfriends face and watched in awe as the worry eked out from the furrows of Alex’s eyebrows, his eyes fluttered closed, and he practically nuzzled into Forrest’s touch. His thumb found the curve of Alex’s lips and he delicately set the pad of his finger in the dimple that appeared.

He didn’t kiss him. Not yet. Alex wasn’t there yet, wasn’t ready to expose himself that much in public. But he could do this. Forrest could hold his boyfriend until he felt calm again. When Alex opened his eyes again and he met Forrest’s gaze, Forrest thought he would drown in the emotions he saw there. Alex pushed forward and gently touched their foreheads together as they got as close as they dared in front of all these people.

“Forrest, they’re gonna see.” It was a whisper, floating in the air between the two. Forrest knew who Alex meant, and it wasn’t the cowboys who had long since navigated closer to the bar. He shrugged and felt a goofy grin begin to spread on his face.

“ _They hate me, don’t they_? I can’t imagine that anyone could see me with you and not spontaneously combusting with jealousy. Hell, I’d hate me if I saw the two of us. So, what do you say babe? You gonna show this whole town what they’re missing? Show them just what a talented, brilliant man they were ignoring, that they had right under their own noses?”

Alex’s eyes went wide, but they twinkled with mischief and laughter as a matching grin began to show on his face too.

“Yea, I think I am.”

Forrest gave him one last squeeze on his knee and then let him get up from their table. Leaning back in his chair he watched his boyfriends swaying hips as Alex made his way backstage; and he also studiously ignored the death glare he could feel boring into the back of his skull from one seriously jealous man in a black cowboy hat near the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What'd you think? Let me know by commenting or giving kudos! Also, this chapter is exactly 800 words? That's not significant, but I thought it was weird lol.


	6. Prompt #56 "I can't feel anything anymore"

The fight had started off fine.

The group had finally pinpointed another base, midway along the border of New Mexico and Arizona, in one of the files that Alex had been going over obsessively. It had taken him months to get the information, and he’d run himself ragged in the process. Michael sometimes wondered if he hadn’t snuck a sleeping bag into the bunker to avoid going home.

The breakthrough happened a few weeks back, and since then the whole group had been spending their off hours planning together. Michael thought they had a solid game plan put together; Alex, Michael, and Isobel would be leading, having the best chance of taking out anyone they run into. He could admit, he didn’t want to bring Valenti, but he couldn’t deny that having a doctor on the team couldn’t hurt. Personally, he thought bringing Max would have been enough, but the others had quickly outvoted him.

Michael watched in awe as Alex took the lead. That man could fight, and in one impressive display he took a man out at the knees and knocked him on his ass. Between the three of them they quickly took out the men crowding the first floor. Nobody had forgotten the tragedy of Caulfield, so while the healers of the group went to check the first floor, Alex and Michael kept moving. They needed to find the server room and shut down the programming that would set off the bombs.

He hadn’t been expecting the second group of soldiers that were waiting for them at the end of the hallway. They’d swarmed out of a room he could only assume had been the living quarters, taking them by surprise. Alex stood in front of him, bodily blocking him from their line of sight.

“Guerin, you need to go.”

“Alex what-“

“Michael, get the fuck out of here.”

And then all hell broke lose around them. Alex unleashed a flurry of blows, taking down as many men as he could. Michael stepped forward to help but keeping Alex out of the zone of his powers was near impossible in the narrow hallway. A gun went off somewhere from the middle of the knot of people, and Michael watched in horror as Alex crumpled. He fell back into Michael’s arms, shock marring his face as he stared up him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the man in his arms, even as he could feel the men moving towards them. An ache began in his chest, spreading through his body as he held Alex close. He felt as if he was trying to merge the two together, trying to heal Alex through sheer force of will. The ache began to sharpen, turning into a burning pressure begging to be released. He tried to force the power into Alex’s body, turn it from destruction into something better, but it exploded outwards towards the men surrounding them. Michael didn’t even notice as they were pushed back, bodies breaking under the force exerted. The wave shot them towards the wall, leaving Michael kneeling over Alex on his own.

There was blood everywhere, staining the floor under them. It covered his shaking hands as he held pressure to the gun shot wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Michael, you need to go, get out of here.” Alex’s hands were pushing weakly against Michael’s chest, trying to physically shove Michael away.

“No,” he shook his head, curls bouncing as he did so, “I’m not leaving here without you.” He readjusted his grip, the pressure ripping a scream out of Alex as he did so. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, we need help.” He fumbled with his phone in his pocket, blood smearing on the screen as he tried to dial Max, Valenti, anybody. The phone didn’t even ring, and he had to fight the urge to chuck it at the wall. No signal. “FUCK”

“Hey, Guerin,” he felt a wet hand touch his cheek, the smell of copper flooding his senses, “it’s ok. You need to get to the others. Make sure they get out alright.” That sounded too much like a goodbye to him.

“No, no, no, Alex, you’re coming with me.” Alex gave him a weak smile and shook his head.

“Michael, _I can’t feel anything anymore_. We both know what that means. I’m not going to make it out of this room, let alone the building. You can.” Michael felt sick, and he didn’t know if it was from his power overload earlier or the prospect of feeling Alex slip through his fingers. He stood suddenly, whole body shaking, as he exerted more power than he thought he had left to lift Alex. He tried not to disturb him too much. He slowly made his way back to the group, as Alex went limp in his grasp.

The fight had started off fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. So. I had such aspirations for this fic. And I'm so tired, I'm uploading this super early in the morning/late at night, so. Sorry fam lol. I know this isn't my best.


	7. Prompt #112 "Why am I so tired" and Prompt #58 "I'll just be forgotten"

Alex had been in a funk. That was really the only thing he could call it. Waking up tired, sleeping a bit through the afternoon, researching during the night. His body ached, joints hurt, eyes burned. But he pushed through it. He still showed up for his friends, went in to work, tried to make sure that he was present and active in the moment. Today was no different.

 _Why am I always so tired?_ He’d gotten enough sleep that night, had forced himself to stay home so he could make himself get to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour. But now his body felt weighed down, like he could just collapse on the floor instead of getting up and doing anything. Maybe he could just take a day off? Nobody would really miss him; nothing had been planned by the group for today, not that he knew of anyway, and he could call in to work.

 _I’ll just be forgotten anyway_ , whispered the voice in his head. The one that sounded so similar to his father that sometimes he wished he could drink enough liquor to make it disappear. But it was true. It had been, what, a week? Since anyone had called him. Kyle was busy helping Steph adjust to life outside of the hospital, Max was still upset about Liz taking off, and Michael. Well. He hadn’t seen Michael since he’d spilled his guts through the lyrics of his love song and looked up to see him disappear.

Maybe this heaviness was because he’d lost Forrest last week. They’d had a good run, and he couldn’t deny that it had been fun, but it never turned as serious as he wanted it to. Alex craved someone to know all of him and not care, someone who could see the darkness he held inside and hold him close anyway. Forrest was fun and flirty, but they didn’t ever settle down like he wanted them to. He didn’t think any of his friends knew yet, but then again, they hadn’t really liked Forrest anyway. He was someone too new, too observant, and none of them wanted him close enough to be included in the group.

So, they’d broken up. It had been rough; he’d been the first man Alex had been with since Michael. The thought of Michael sent a pang through his chest, not quite the white-hot agony that he had felt when Michael walked out of the Pony without looking back, but still painful enough to cause him to clutch at his chest. Yea. He deserved a day in. A day just to himself, to recover and catch up on some sleep. He called his supervisor, letting him know that he wouldn’t be in today. The man was understanding and wished him a good weekend. Was it Friday already? When had he lost that much time? He felt like he was drifting now, exhausted and alone in his house. Shaking it off he took a sleeping pill and passed back out on his bed.

The next time he woke it was to a pounding on his door. Groaning, Alex threw his arm over his eyes, trying to shield himself from the daylight was streaming through the window. The person at the door continued to knock, adding their voice to the mix when he refused to answer. After a minute or two he heard the door burst in, and Alex flung himself towards his bedside table and the gun he’d hid underneath it. He brought it up just as Michael erupted into his bedroom, curls flying, eyes panic-wide.

 _“Michael?_ What the fuck? I could’ve shot you!” The man himself hurried over and sat on the bed next to him, he was too close and not close enough. He reached out and cupped Alex’s cheek, looking worriedly at the bruise dark bags under his eyes, rubbing his thumb against his cheekbone. It took everything he had not to lean into the touch.

“You weren’t answering your phone. I got worried.”

“So, you thought you could just, barge in?”

“I haven’t heard from you in weeks. I got desperate. And when you didn’t answer your phone, I had to ask _Kyle_ and he hadn’t heard from you in days. I thought you were gone.” His voice quivered as he looked away, breaking the intense eye contact they had shared since he broke down Alex’s door. A loud grumble from his stomach sounded, letting him know how hungry he was. Alex exchanged his gun for his phone and tried to check the time, but his phone was dead.

“What time is it?” the question drew Michael’s attention back to him and away from his twisting hands.

“It’s seven, Saturday morning. I came over as soon as I got up. Are you-, are you ok Alex? I know it’s been rough-“

“I’m fine.” He didn’t mean to sound so stiff, but he really couldn’t talk with Michael about anything as complicated as _f_ _eelings_ just yet. “Let’s just. Let’s go get some breakfast ok?” Michael looked up at him, hope glimmering in his eyes. And Alex thinks that, he may not be fine right now, but if Michael kept looking at him like that, he might be soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter features more projecting onto Alex Manes as well as just, idk, I feel weird about this one.


	8. Prompt #1: "The screams all sound the same"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey. I know it's been a while. I've been dealing with things. Like, all of the things occurring, plus more personal stuff. But here's another chapter to this 150 Angst Prompts. I'm still rusty, please go easy on me. If you like it please comment or give me kudos. I need it to keep my spirits up.

With a gasp Alex sat up straight, clutching his chest as he fought to take a breath. His lungs burned as they expanded against his ribs. In front of him the computer screens blinked red, warning him of someone coming down to the bunker. He twisted in his chair, grabbing his pistol from where he had sat it hours ago, and aiming towards the darkness of the entrance.

“Alex? You down here?” Michael’s voice echoed down the stairwell, seeped in worry and trepidation.

“Yea, I’m here.” His reply was raspy with sleep. Alex set the gun back down and tried to relax. He’d been dreaming, voices still echoed in his ears from whatever nightmare his brain had decided to relive today. The details were starting to fade away now, slipping back into the recesses of his memory.

“Hey, you ok?” He startled at the touch on his shoulder, flinching back at the contact.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing, really Guerin. I’ve just been-“he chanced a glance over to the computer that had the file he’d been pouring over, now filled with nonsense from where his cheek had rested on his keyboard, “working.”

“Uh-huh. Looks like you got a lot done there Alex.” Michael sat down in the chair next to him, resting his elbows on his knees, edging into Alex’s space. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

Alex sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. The weariness was chafing, making him irritable.

“I told you, nothing’s wrong. I’m just trying to get this done.”

“Alex,” Michael rested his hand on Alex’s knee, the warmth from it suffusing through his body. “When was the last time that you slept? Like in a bed and everything?”

There was a beat of silence.

“That long huh?”

“I can’t-“ Alex choked on his words, if he said them out loud then it’d make them real. A light squeeze to his knee had him looking up. Michael’s brow was furrowed, putting little worry lines next to his eyes. Alex gulped hard, how bad would it be, just to tell one person? To trust one person. And it was Michael. He could share with him.  
“I haven’t been able to sleep lately. It’s like, every time I close my eyes I can hear them. Screaming for me. At me-“

“Who? Who is it?”

“I don’t know. That’s the thing, the screams all sound the same. I’ve seen so much shit. Here, abroad, at Caulfield. And it’s all my fault. All of them. I should have saved them. I-“ A sob caught in his throat, the stress combined with the lack of sleep finally catching up to him. Alex curled in on himself, base instincts screaming at him to protect, save, can’t show weakness. Sobs wracked through his body, and he finally felt himself start to crack, break, shake apart. 

Heat wrapped around him, and the scent of rain slowly sunk into his tired brain. He felt like he was floating as he came back to his body. Michael had gathered up the pieces of him off the ground and put him back together, holding him there rubbing soothing circles into his shaking back. He was muttering nonsense, whispering as he rocked them back and forth slowly, holding Alex like he was something precious.

“It’s ok. You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok.” Alex sniffled, rubbing his face into the crook of Michael’s neck, chasing the scent he’d come to associate with home. A bone deep exhaustion overtook him, and the thought of just staying here in Michael’s arms seemed so tempting. An involuntary grumble left him as Michael began to pull away.

“Nope, c’mon private, we’re going to the Airstream. I’ve got you.” Michael stood and held out his hand, looking at him expectantly. And here it was, Alex had a decision. He could take the hand, trust someone to take some of the weight off of his shoulders, or he could hide, brush this off as a one-off occasion and push Michael away again. It’d be easier that way. It’s how he had survived so far, what he was taught to do as a child. Michael’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward the motion pulling Alex out of his head once again.

“Just take my hand private.”

He took the hand.


	9. Prompt #15: "What did I do wrong?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it normal to both like this and not like this? I loved the prompt, and I like where it went, but idk. So yea, here it is! As always please comment or give kudos if you like this. I'm trying to put effort into this every week, so let me know if you enjoyed!

“What did I do wrong?” Alex’s voice didn’t quaver, and Michael felt his heart shatter. His attention snapped to the man sitting across the room.

“What?” he managed to croak, even as the blood in his veins turned to ice.

“What did I do wrong? I mean, I know there’s things I did wrong, I shouldn’t have ever taken you to Caulfield, and I keep running away from you, and I’m so fucked up, but was it any of that? Or was it something else? I need to know, for myself, just so that I know what I did. So, when did- when did you stop loving me Guerin?”

“Alex-“ Michael looked over at the captain, who was sitting in the computer chair, curled up on himself, arms wrapped around his middle, as if to protect himself from a blow he was sure was coming. “You didn’t- you didn’t do anything wrong. And I haven’t- I still-” He choked, the word stuck sharp in his throat. He was never one for pretty words anyway. So instead, Michael reached out, everything in him aching to comfort Alex. To his horror, Alex flinched away, hard.

“Don’t.” Alex couldn’t even meet his eyes as he shook his head, “Don’t. Don’t lie to me. I just need to know what I did wrong, ok?”

He crumbled then, falling to the floor at Alex’s feet, anything to get his attention.

“Alex, please, listen.” Michael reached out, letting his hand rest in a gentle caress on the other man’s cheek. He watched as Alex’s face shuttered at his touch, fascinated that Alex still let himself lean into the palm of Michael’s hand, taking some comfort even as he ached. He let himself sit and just look at the man before him; his hair soft and ruffled, eyelashes caressing the thin skin under his eyes, noticing that it looked purple and bruised from lack of sleep. Worry seeped in the more he looked at the man in from of him. “Alex, you didn’t do anything wrong. Please believe me.”

Alex’s eyes fluttered open, and Michael was momentarily entranced with the gold and green flecks in the sea of hazel. God, when did Alex get so tired? When did he break? And how did Michael not notice? They held eye contact for a second before something broke and Alex looked away.

“I know what you said. Maria told me. You love her, and I get it, I do. But it made me realize, you never said it to me. Not when we were together as kids, not once when I came home to see you, hell you’ve told me before how unequivocally much you _don’t_ love me. And I realized that you maybe never even felt it. Which is ok, again, I get it. But I need to know why. If it was something _I_ did. Because I’m so tired. I’m tired Guerin. I want to be the one that’s loved for once, and I can’t do that if I don’t fix myself.”

“You don’t need to _FIX_ yourself Alex, there’s nothing wrong with you!” He shot up, anger rising hot and fast in his chest. How had he managed to fuck up this badly? “You don’t need fixing Alex.” Michael found himself heaving a bit, the effort of restraining his powers, even as they thrummed through his body.

“Then why can’t you love me?” There was a deafening silence as the question hung in the air. Michael tried to answer, but the devastation on Alex’s face shredded any answer he had. He swallowed hard.

“I do.” His reward was a bitter smile. Alex stood, flinching a bit as he put weight on his prosthetic. Michael watched, entranced, as Alex gathered himself and made his way to the door. “Alex?”

The man froze, one hand on the ladder leading up and out of the bunker. He looked at Michael one last time before he ascended.

“If you did Michael, you would have said it to my face by now.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, I've picked a prompt list of 150 Angst/Horror Prompts that I'm going to be attempting to write. I found a generator for the list and have a randomized list of numbers so I won't be following it in order. If you enjoyed, please comment, this is a fun little thing for me to do to keep motivated.


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